


Dianthus and the Dance

by cassbutt_67



Series: To Speak the Language of Flowers [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Caring Dean, Cute, Destiel Fluff, Fluffy, Homophobia, Language of Flowers, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Protective Dean Winchester, Sweet, Trust, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassbutt_67/pseuds/cassbutt_67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are going very well for Castiel. He's even bringing Dean to his brother's wedding, and he's excited about it. despite his dread of potentially having to face homophobic relatives. After a rather unpleasant incident, Dean surprises him with a date only he could think of to celebrate Cas' birthday. Honestly, he couldn't feel luckier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dianthus and the Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are, part five. 
> 
> This is the longest one yet, but I think I like where it goes. It's potentially triggering, so be forewarned.  
> I'd love feedback/ suggestions if you'd like to comment :) 
> 
> As usual, I don't own Supernatural or its characters, but the story's mine.
> 
> For the flower language: http://www.victorianbazaar.com/meanings.html

Dean stood in front of the door to the flower shop searching his key ring for the right key. He glanced up at the large  _ That’s Ranunculus!  _ typewriter-font sign with the pink flower beside it. He still couldn’t believe Sammy had convinced him to name his shop something so punny, but it was amusing all the same.

Once inside he took an instinctive glance around the place to make sure nothing was terribly out of sorts, then he saw the flowers. Not the ones lining the walls in trays and hanging baskets, but the ones bundled sweetly in a small white ribbon. Castiel didn’t need to attach the names of the flowers to them, and he knew that Dean knew what they were, but he did it anyway. Little slips of paper tied to each bloom with its name written in a beautiful scrawl. Dean loved that he did this, that he was taking the time to get to know the different types of flowers and their meanings. It was  _ very  _ corny, but oh so endearing and it made Dean almost giddy each time he received a new miniature bouquet. They were always incredibly mismatched, which is something he wasn’t used to being okay with, as a florist whose job it was to make arrangements that  _ go  _ together. But there was something nice about the mixed colours laced with various meanings that made it okay. 

This one was a combination of white, yellows, and pinks, and it was particularly sweet, making Dean’s heart do somersaults in his chest: a white daffodil, an oak-leaved geranium, and marjoram flowers.  _ The sun shines when I’m with you, true friendship, joy _ . It was  _ ridiculously _ sappy. And it completely made Dean’s day. He made a mental note to put together something for Castiel before leaving later that day.

 

***

 

Ivy geranium.  _ Your hand for the next dance _ . It was Friday and Balthazar’s wedding was tomorrow. There would be a reception, which would undoubtedly mean music, and therefore dancing. Castiel was smiling, as he usually did when he noticed Dean had left flowers for him. He set them on top of the register as he began working, and the day seemed to go by rather quickly. Before he knew it, he, Ellen, and Jo were locking up and it was time to go home. 

He got into his car and drove the short distance back to his flat. He opened the door, locked it behind him, and kicked off his shoes. Rummaging through the closet he found his best suit, a nice white dress shirt, and some black trousers. It took him more time to find his tie, considering he only owned one and he rarely had to wear it. He set his clothes for the following day and changed into his pyjamas before heading to the kitchen to make dinner. Later that night, while trying to sleep, all he could think of was how excited he was that he actually had someone to take to his brother’s wedding. Not just someone, but  _ Dean _ . Someone for whom he was unquestionably head-over-heels. The feeling was so strong that he all but forgot his nerves regarding the reactions of his family members when they would find out his date was a man. 

 

***

 

Around 11:00am, there was a knock at the door Castiel had been expecting. He opened his door and had to try, with some difficulty, to keep from letting out a gasp. Dean was standing there wearing a navy-coloured suit, dark slacks, and a tastefully pink tie over a white button-up shirt. Cas had never seen Dean look so formal, and he had to admit it was making him blush a little.

“Mornin’, Cas,” he said lightly. 

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel replied, finding his voice. “Come in.”

It hadn’t really occurred to him that this would be the first time Dean had come into his home. He stood in the doorway gazing around the place. 

“This is some place you’ve got,” Dean commented. 

“Oh, thank you. It’s small but I like it. Are you ready to go?”

Dean nodded, walking out the door. They climbed into the Impala and Castiel placed his gift for his brother in the back seat. 

The drive was peaceful, as the road to the little town in which the wedding was to take place took them through several nearly rural neighbourhoods. It was only an hour’s drive and by the time they were getting close, Dean noticed Cas visibly clenching his jaw.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mhm,” Cas nodded slightly. 

“You seem a little tense.”

Castiel snapped out of whatever trance he had been in and turned to Dean. “I’m nervous, yes. But it’ll be fine.”

“You’ve got me, you know,” Dean assured him.

This brought a smile to Cas’ face, and in reply he gently took one of Dean’s hands from the steering wheel, entwining their fingers.

Soon enough they were pulling into the lot of the church, directed to a parking place by a large man in a suit. The church sat adjacent to the town hall, at the back of which they could catch a glimpse of the reception setup. 

As they made their way into the church, Castiel was greeted by several relatives, none of whom were apparently close enough with him to ask if he had brought a date. Thankful for this, he led Dean to one of the pews at the back in hopes they would be inconspicuous. Castiel didn’t much like weddings, mostly because they were crowded with people, namely his close and distant relatives with whom he did not get along terribly well. Everyone knew he was the black sheep of the family, a meagre biologist, eh hem, -- _ barista _ \-- amongst lawyers and CEOs. He did, however, feel very comforted by Dean’s presence and he tightened his grip on his hand as he scooted a little closer to the other man’s side, their shoulders now touching.

Cas glanced at Dean, who appeared to be examining the floral choices the couple had made; there were arrangements of blue clustered flowers with small purple and pink ones amidst lacy greenery. Castiel didn’t think they were the best choice of colours, which made him think he had been spending too much time listening to Dean talk about the importance of colour schemes and the ratio of flowers to leaves in arrangements. He smirked just as Dean scoffed beside him.

“What are they?” Cas asked. “I know hydrangeas but not the little ones.”

Dean leaned in the speak quietly. “Hydrangeas mean ‘heartlessness’, sometimes ‘thank you for understanding’. The dark pink ones with the fluffy greenery are called love in a mist, they mean ‘you puzzle me’.”

Cas was trying his damndest not to laugh at the irony. Dean added, “And the purple ones are sweetpeas, which usually mean ‘goodbye’ or ‘thank you for a good time’.”

Castiel cleared his throat, stifling his laughter with a cough. “They clearly didn’t consult the right florist,” he said.

Dean shrugged. “To be fair, the ferns they used are maidenhair ferns. Those are supposed to mean ‘secret bond of love’.”

“It’s funny because I’ve been listening to my family complain about this woman he’s marrying. They don’t like her, and they think she’s just after his money.”

“Damn, what’s Balthazar do for a living?”

“He’s a very successful lawyer.”

Dean nodded. “And what does she do?”

He shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t even know her name.”

Dean laughed just as the processional music began to play. In spite of their terrible choice in flowers, the bride did look rather nice as did Balthazar, who was about ten years older than Castiel and wore a dapper tuxedo with a blue tie and handkerchief in his breast pocket that matched the hydrangeas. Their vows were simple, which Cas thought was nice. He noticed that some of the audience members, of both sides of the family, did not approve however. There were a few audible scoffs along with the sniffles of happy tears. He was having a difficult time imagining what the reception would be like with such mixed opinions, but he hoped for the sake of everyone involved they would all be civil.

Once the couple were wed, Dean and Cas made their way out of the church to the lawn behind the town hall. They had no choice at which table they sat because a woman wearing an ankle-length lacy dress and an enormous, gaudy sunhat was suddenly upon them. She was quite an old woman, her face wrinkled and her smile sagging slightly from the lack of teeth. 

“Cast _ iel _ !” she exclaimed, tugging him into a hug tighter than one would expect from a woman of her stature. “I’ve  _ missed _ you!”

“Hi grandma,” he replied as he awkwardly returned the hug. “How are you doing?”

“Fine, fine. Disappointed your brother’s gone off with this  _ tramp  _ thought,” it was difficult to take her seriously with such an imposing hat. 

“Well, I’m trying to be optimistic,” was all he could think to say. “I don’t know her.” 

“That’s just it!  _ No one  _ actually  _ knows  _ the woman and--” she was suddenly very distracted. “Oooh,” she exclaimed in a high-pitched squeal. “Who’s this, Castiel? Your therapist? You brought your therapist with you, did you?”

Cas looked as confused as Dean. “No, grandma he’s not my therapist. He’s--”

“He’s quite handsome!”

“I agree,” Cas admitted. “Grandma, this is Dean. He’s my boyfriend.”

“ _ Oh _ ,” understanding spread across her face, followed by a very broad grin. “You have very good taste in men, Castiel,” she said behind her hand, unsuccessfully hiding the comment.

Cas seemed as surprised by this as Dean, who let out a loud “Hah!” at the statement. 

“Damn right he does,” said Dean. “It’s good to meet you, Mrs--?”

“Oh just call me Pat,” she said shaking his hand.

“Grandma,” Cas cut in, “where’s--?”

But his question was answered before the words could leave his mouth, as yet another woman flung her arms around Castiel.

“Castiel I didn’t see you in the church!” his mother cried. 

As with his grandmother, Cas returned the hug awkwardly. “Hello, Mother. We were in the back,” he informed her.

“We? You have a  _ date? _ ”

He nodded toward Dean, who was standing behind her. 

“Oh, silly!” she exclaimed. “Friends do not count as dates, dear.”

“Mom, this is my boyfriend, Dean.”

Her eyes widened. “He’s your--?  _ Oooh _ . Dean, I’m Naomi, it’s lovely to meet you.”

Dean smiled charmingly. “Pleasure to meet you, Naomi.”

“Chuck!” Naomi yelled to someone behind Dean. “Come here! Castiel has a  _ date! _ ”

By this time, Castiel’s face was thoroughly red. He felt Dean’s fingers close around his hand he gave him a grateful look.

A bearded man a little shorter than Naomi appeared at her side. “Castiel!” He reached across Dean and hugged his son. “You really brought a date?”

Cas cleared his throat. “Yes, this is Dean. He’s my boyfriend.”

Chuck raised his eyebrows as if he was expecting this to be a joke. Once he realised it wasn’t, however, he immediately grasped Dean’s free hand and shook it firmly. “Dean, it’s great to meet you!”

“You too, sir!”

As embarrassed as he felt, Castiel was quite happy with the way the introductions were going so far. They ended up sitting at the table with his parents, grandmother, aunt, and uncle, enjoying the food and discussing things like Dean’s occupation. 

His uncle asked the question Cas knew would come up eventually. “So Castiel, when did you decide to be gay?”

He sighed. “Uriel, I didn’t  _ choose _ anything. And I’m not really gay, I just… like people for who they are.”

“Well you  _ chose  _ to be with a man, so I just wondered.” It wasn’t that his tone was malicious, and he meant nothing negative by the statement, but it irritated Cas nonetheless. Again, he was grateful for the pressure Dean applied to his hand under the table.

“Now Uriel,” Naomi chided, “Castiel is  _ happy _ . Let’s not spoil it for him.”

“I’m not spoiling anything, I just wondered is all --”

“So, Castiel,” Chuck said, quickly changing the subject.

“Yes, Father?” Cas said through partially gritted teeth.

“You decide when you’re going back to school?”

“I don’t know if I’m going to,” he said very quietly.

The air was suddenly a little more tense. “Okay. What do you plan to do with a bachelor’s degree then? You know what they’re saying nowadays. The master’s degree is the new bachelor’s. Everyone’s got one.”

“Dean hasn’t,” he blurted. Everyone turned to Dean. “And he’s a very successful business owner,” Cas added.

This set them all off, excitedly talking about how Dean got the flower shop started and where he got his degree and what were his next plans. 

After a while, Castiel told Dean he wanted him to meet his brothers, who were standing by the bar. On their way over, they were stopped by two of Castiel’s cousins, who were looking at him excitedly.

“Castiel!” the dark-haired woman exclaimed. “We hear you actually brought a date!”

“Yeah,” said the man. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“He’s right here,” Dean took the liberty of introducing himself. “Dean Winchester, nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand, but they gave it a look as if it carried the plague.

“Hannah, Lu, this is Dean. He is my date,” said Castiel. “Dean, these are two of my cousins. From my mother’s side.”

“Oh dear,” said Hannah. 

“Well, I hope you’re happy,” said Lu in a less than sincere manner. “It’s kind of a shame though.”

“Oh?” asked Cas, squinting his eyes and tilting his head slightly. “And why is that exactly? I’m happy. For once.”

“Maybe your little meltdown jumbled you up,” Hannah chimed in. “You’ll get past this, don’t worry.”

Castiel’s jaw was clenched and he was probably holding Dean’s hand a little too tightly for it to be comfortable, but he didn’t protest. “It wasn’t a  _ little meltdown _ ,” he hissed.

“Alright,” Dean cut in. “Cas, I’d love to meet your brothers.” He gently tugged at his hand. 

A little shaken and still feeling the beginnings of rage in his gut, Castiel turned to Dean. The look Dean was giving him softened him just the slightest bit. “Okay,” was all he managed before storming past his cousins, dragging Dean along with him.

Castiel tried to let go of his nerves from the encounter as he approached his brothers.

“Congratulations, Balthazar,” Castiel said, hugging the man a little less awkwardly than his other family members.

“Cassie! I’m so glad you could make it!” he clapped his brother on the back. 

“Hey, who’s the stud?” Castiel’s other brother asked jokingly, leering at Dean.

“Dean, this is Balthazar and Gabriel, my brothers.”

He shook both their hands. “Good to meet you.”

“He your date?” Gabriel winked at Cas.

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend.”

This did not faze either of them in the least. Instead, they happily started a conversation asking how the two met and how long they had been together. 

It truly was turning out to be a good day with much less stress than Castiel had anticipated. He smiled as he watched his boyfriend converse enthusiastically with his brothers.

Then he saw him. The smile fell from Castiel’s face instantly and he felt his stomach drop to the ground, threatening to spill its contents. His heart raced so quickly he could hear the blood rushing in his ears and he feared everyone around him could hear it too. He instinctively grabbed Dean’s arm before he found himself collapsing to his knees.

 

***

 

Dean was having a great time at the wedding. For the most part, no one had been homophobic, save for those two cousins Cas introduced him to who really seemed to have upset him. It seemed to blow over for the time being though once he was introduced to Balthazar and Gabriel, Castiel’s brothers, both of whom did not have any qualms about Castiel dating a man. They were talking expressively about anything and everything, from how he had met Cas to where he worked and whether or not he enjoyed watching sports. 

Suddenly, Cas grabbed his arm, his grip like a damn  _ vice _ .

“Ow, Cas, what the--?” he started to protest, but stopped short when Castiel began to fall slowly to the ground.

Both Gabriel and Balthazar’s heads snapped up, looking in the same direction Cas had been. Dean didn’t see anything that seemed out of the ordinary, there were simply clusters of people talking. But Gabriel practically bolted to one particular group nearby, muttering, “What the  _ fuck  _ is he doing here?” 

Balthazar began to help Cas stand with Dean’s assistance, his arm still locked in Cas’ grip. “Dean, bring him home,” said Balthazar seriously.

“Is he alright? Cas, what’s going on?”

“He won’t listen,” Balthazar informed him. “He’s having a panic attack, just bring him to the car. I’ll call later to check up on him. Just get him out of here.”

Dean nodded curtly, instantly going into protective mode, something he was used to from practically raising his little brother on his own. He wrapped his arm around Castiel’s shoulders, holding him tight as he guided him across the lawn to the church parking lot. He opened the door and helped him slide into the passenger’s seat before getting in the driver’s side.

“Cas?” he said tentatively.

“Home,” was all he said, barely audibly. Dean turned on the car and pulled out of the lot and took out the instructions Castiel had printed out on how to get to the church. He glanced at Cas slumped against the door.

“Cas, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable bringing you to the car,” he said gently. “I had to get you out of there.”

Castiel said nothing, but reached his hand across the seat and Dean took it, giving it what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. Dean couldn’t help but notice Cas’ pulse as he held his hand, and it was quite alarming to him. He had no idea what to do. He’d never experienced this kind of panic attack, one he assumed was due to Cas’ PTSD at the sight of the man, Dean could only assume, was the source of his trauma. The one who was  _ not  _ supposed to be at the wedding. Dean felt incredibly angry at this man, despite the fact he wasn’t even sure which one it had been. It pained him to see Castiel in such a state, and he felt helpless. 

He turned on the radio to something quiet and classical, hoping it might ease Cas’ nerves if only a little. Aside from the music, the hour’s ride back to the city was painfully silent.

Once they pulled up to Castiel’s apartment building, Dean aided Cas in getting out of the car and up the front steps. Cas fumbled with his pocket, removing the key and handing it to Dean. Dean was sure to lock the door when they were inside and removed his shoes before going to sit Cas on the couch. But Cas tore from his grasp and barely made it to the washroom before Dean heard him begin to retch.

Still unsure of what to do, he went to the kitchen and opened a few cupboards until he found Cas’ store of tea. He opted for lemon ginger and put the kettle on to boil, going to check on Cas while the water heated.

“Cas?” he asked carefully. “Can I do anything to help you?” 

“I need to shower,” he replied hoarsely, clinging to the toilet bowl. “And I need clean clothing.”

Dean made his way into Castiel’s bedroom wordlessly as he heard the shower start. He rummaged through the drawers of Cas’ bureau until he found what looked to be comfortable clothing and took it to the washroom. Cas hadn’t bothered shutting the door, so Dean set the clothes, along with a towel he’d found in the closet, on the toilet seat. He returned to the kitchen, closing the washroom door, and took the now whistling kettle to the cup of tea. He added honey he’d found in the cupboard, the way he used to do when Sam was sick as a kid, and stirred it well. About ten minutes later, he heard the shower stop.

Eventually Castiel emerged looking positively  _ terrible _ . He sat on the sofa and Dean brought the cup to the coffee table. 

“Do you want some tea?”

“Yes, Dean thank you.” He took the cup in his hands and sipped at it.

“Can I sit with you?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Do you need anything else?”

A small smile crept across Cas’ face. “You’re too much. I’m used to handling panic attacks on my own, Dean. Thank you, but I’ll be okay.”

He nodded, feeling a little silly for being so worried.

It seemed like they sat there for hours while Castiel finished his tea and though it wasn’t terribly late, Cas announced he was going to bed and took Dean’s hand.

Dean followed him into his bedroom and stopped at the doorway. “I’ll go home then if you’re ready to crash,” Dean said.

Cas looked up at him, climbing under the sheets. “Well, I was kind of hoping you’d stay…” he said quietly. “In the apartment… so I’m not alone.”

“I can do that,” Dean said without hesitation. “Where do you want me to stay?”

“You’ll stay?” he said incredulously. “Really?”

“Well yeah,” Dean said, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. 

“Oh. Well, in that case, feel free to take whatever clothes you want to wear. There are blankets in my closet. My couch is really comfortable, I promise. And please help yourself to anything in the kitchen, I know you didn’t get to eat dinner. Thank you so much, I --” His words were coming in rapid succession, but Dean gently cut him off.

“Cas, it’s really no problem. I  _ want  _ to make you feel better. I  _ care  _ about you.”

“I believe you, Dean,” Cas replied genuinely. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed. I’ll see you in the morning then?”

“Yes.”

Dean went to Cas and kissed his head before taking a t-shirt and a pair of shorts from the bureau and a blanket from the top shelf of the closet. He then headed out to the living room, closing the door behind him. 

The clothes were a little snug, as Castiel was a bit smaller than himself, but he was thankful to be out of the formal attire anyways. He made himself a cup of tea and began boiling water for pasta he’d found in one of Cas’ cupboards. He sipped his tea thoughtfully, leaning against the counter and gazing around at Castiel’s flat. He hadn’t gotten a proper look at it before, but now as he studied the arrangement, he found that he really enjoyed the space.

Castiel’s kitchen had a black and white tiled floor with white cabinets and light wooden countertops that nearly matched the floor to the living room, which was opposite the kitchen. A large window at the far end of the flat allowed the fading sunlight to spill across the room, illuminating the seemingly out of place maroon suede sofa. The door to Castiel’s bedroom was situated beside the far window, its white paint lightly worn near the hinges. 

Dean’s gaze fell onto the small kitchen table, which sat in the middle of the room, complete with two simple wooden chairs. He stared at the vase at its center and smiled. Cas had kept all of the flowers Dean had given him; he found this endearing as hell, in spite of the fact that  _ none  _ of these flowers went together. 

Once his pasta had finished cooking, Dean ate in silence, enjoying the tranquility of being (not quite) alone. He spent the remainder of the evening scanning the pages of books Cas had on a bookshelf behind the couch, learning about apiaries and the different types of honey that bees produced depending on the flowers they used. As the night drew on, he found himself yawning widely and decided to get some sleep. He sighed as he lay on the couch, which was definitely as comfortable as Cas had promised. Sinking into the cushions, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 

***

 

Castiel awoke late Sunday morning, squinting in the sunlight streaming through the window to his left. He realised two things simultaneously: that his head was pounding rhythmically with the sudden brightness of the day, and that he was pretty sure Dean had stayed on his couch all night. With this thought, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand and slowly dragged himself from bed and opened his door. 

Dean was standing in his kitchen wearing Castiel’s clothes, which were a little too small. He bit back a smile as the butterflies in his stomach started fluttering from the sight of Dean’s back beneath the taut t-shirt. He definitely hadn’t heard Castiel enter the room, and he listened as he hummed a familiar song, the name of which he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Castiel approached him from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder as he said, “Good morning, Dean.”

The man startled, muttering, “Christ,” under his breath before looking over at Castiel. “Mornin’, Cas,” he said.

He turned to give him a hug and placed a brief kiss in his bedhead. “How are you feeling?”

Cas pulled away and sat at the table. “I’ll be fine,” he shrugged.

“I made you toast,” Dean said, removing two pieces of toast from the toaster and placing them on a plate. “I know you probably can’t eat much, but you should still try.”

He nodded. “Yes, I should. Thank you.”

Dean sat across from him and set his chin on his hands. “You have plans for today?”

Cas munched on his toast. “I plan not to leave my house.” Dean nodded in understanding. “But, I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you…”

“Shoot,” said Dean.

“I need, um, well I need groceries. Pretty badly, actually. And I really can’t be in a supermarket.”

“You need me to go for you?”

“If you’re not busy, I would really appreciate it.”

“I’m not busy. I’m supposed to meet up with Benny from work later for coffee but that’s not until tonight.”

“Perfect. There’s a list on the fridge, it’s not a lot.”

“Alright, I’ll head out soon then.”

They sat in a comfortable silence until Cas finished his toast and Dean put his clothes back on, carrying his suit and tie and rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt. 

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said to Cas as he put his shoes on. 

“Okay, thank you so much for doing this.” Castiel stood at the door with Dean, holding a cup of coffee.

“Anytime, Cas,” he smiled and made his way down the steps to the street below.

Cas made crossed the kitchen and sat on the sofa, placing the coffee on the table. He couldn’t help thinking about the turn his life had taken in the past two months. This week marked the beginning of July and he couldn’t believe that just this past April he would never have asked anyone to do his grocery shopping for him. It wasn’t that he was too proud, he simply felt as though he was being a burden and that if he couldn’t force himself into the crowded, overwhelming throng of people incessantly flooding the supermarket, then he should go without. Which is what he had done in the past. He shuddered thinking about the last time he was unable to leave the flat for more than a week, and how Charlie had come over without invitation because she had been so worried as to why he hadn’t been answering his texts or calls. 

But that was nearly two years ago. And here he was with a job he’d kept for over a year and a half and a very supportive boyfriend he’d had for two months already. He began to wonder whether he might be able to start thinking about his dream of starting an apiary. The fact that he could even consider this brought him contentment, and it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t recovered this well from a panic attack since he first started having them. Again, he felt a wave of contentment wash over him as he picked up the book Dean had left on the coffee table and flipped through the pages, still deep in thought.

 

***

 

Dean arrived some time later with the groceries. He helped Cas put them away, but didn’t stay long, saying he had to bring his own groceries home, which were still in the back of his car. Castiel thanked him for everything and kissed his cheek before he left. 

Remembering he had work the following morning, he was sure to go to bed early. He leaned across the bed to the nightstand and set his alarm, thinking about how quickly the summer was going.

 

***

 

The week came and went with little trouble and by Friday afternoon, Castiel found himself sitting with Ellen by the register, taking advantage of a lull in the number of customers.

“So,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“So your birthday is next weekend.”

“Mhm,” he absentmindedly.

“So I’m giving you the day off.”

“Ellen, that’s very sweet but I kind of need the money.”

“Well  _ of course  _ it’s a paid day off,” she rolled her eyes. “What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“But what will I do if I don’t come to work?” he asked in all seriousness.

She just looked at him. “Well I assume you’ll go on a date with Dean.”

“But he hasn’t told me we’d be going somewhere.” He furrowed his brow in honest confusion.

“I think that’s the idea. It’s a  _ surprise _ .”

“Ooh,” he smirked. “Do I get a hint?”

“Not from me you don’t.” She nodded in the direction of the bookstore’s entrance. Cas followed her gaze and saw Dean ambling in, sporting a white tank top and a pair of jeans. He thought of the flower he had received this morning, a lemon geranium,  _ unexpected meeting _ . This must be said meeting, although it was hardly unexpected at this point. Dean came into the shop pretty regularly, it had been part of their routine for quite some time, that along with almost nightly phone calls. 

“This is unexpected,” Cas said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Shut up,” Dean laughed. “Cas how do you feel about butterflies?”

He tilted his head. “They are my second favourite insect. Why?”

“Good, that’s all I needed to know.” He turned to leave.

“Wait! That’s  _ it? _ ”

Dean came back to the counter and kissed his cheek. “You’ll find out more next weekend.”

And with that, he left, leaving Castiel thoroughly puzzled and very intrigued. 

 

***

 

For the first time in a long time, Castiel felt that his birthday could not come quickly enough. He and Charlie had brainstormed what the date could possibly have to do with butterflies when they met up later that Sunday. But they were stumped.

“Maybe ‘butterflies’ is figurative?” she suggested, propping her feet up on his coffee table.

“How so?”

“I have no clue. Maybe he was just seeing if you were afraid of them or something.”

“Why--? Nevermind. I guess I’ll just have to wait.”

Castiel hated waiting. In fact, he really wasn’t one for surprises, they usually caused him a great deal of stress. But he trusted Dean, so his anticipation was spent more in excitement than worry. 

Eventually, the following Sunday came and he half expected to get another hint, as they stood in Dean’s kitchen preparing dinner.

“I’m going to come pick you up tomorrow at 1:00pm, okay?” said Dean as he placed the onions and garlic into the frying pan with a satisfying sizzle.

“Okay,” replied Cas. “Do I get any other hints other than ‘butterflies’?”

Dean contemplated this for a few moments. “Yeah, hold on.”

He walked down the hallway to his bedroom and came back with brightly coloured fabric in his hands.

“Wear this tomorrow,” he said as he handing the thing over to Cas.

Castiel unfolded it and saw it was a rather hideous bright yellow t-shirt. He raised his eyebrow. “Really Dean?”

“Don’t sass me,” Dean teased. “It’s necessary. Mine’s red.”

“I’m very confused.”

“Perfect,” he smiled smugly. “Now let’s finish dinner.”

Cas huffed, slightly annoyed, but continued chopping mushrooms anyway. 

By the time Cas was home and going to bed, he had set aside the ugly t-shirt along with a pair of shorts on top of his bureau ready for the next day.

When he awoke, he took his time trying to look presentable (this was still a date, after all, and no matter how long he’d been with Dean, he liked to look nice when they went out). He packed his work bag with his wallet, keys, and a nicer shirt, incase he should have the option to change. When Dean picked him up, he was indeed wearing an obnoxiously  _ red  _ t-shirt. The colour really popped contrasted against the black leather of the Impala, and Castiel chuckled at how ridiculous the two of them must have looked.

“How far away is this place?” Castiel asked as the pulled away from the curb.

“About an hour and a half.”

The drive took them out of the city and through a small section of countryside, where there were a few tiny farms.

“Someday I’ll be able to afford someplace like this,” Castiel said quietly, his arm hanging out the window.

“You want a farm?” Dean looked over at him, briefly taking his eyes off the road.

“I want an apiary. Not anything huge, just a few colonies. I know so much about them, how to care for the bees, to see if the colony is healthy, how and when to extract honey, and even what kinds of flavours result from different plants. But it’s all only in theory. I’ve never put it to practise.” 

He sounded slightly dejected at this, but Dean simply said, “Hey, you’ll get there, don’t worry.” He took his hand and squeezed it.

Cas found comfort in this, and opted to stay mostly silent for the rest of the drive.

They came to another city and soon pulled into the parking lot of a large grey building, the sign to which read: Museum of Natural History: Insect Wing. Cas’ eyes lit up.

“You’re taking me on a date to an  _ insect museum? _ ” 

Dean looked momentarily panicked as he parked the car. “Uh, yeah, I thought you’d like it.”

Castiel flung his arms around Dean, much to his surprise, and said, “That is the  _ best  _ idea for a date I have ever heard,” he said into Dean’s shoulder.

Dean chuckled. “Oh good, I’m glad. You had me worried for a second there.”

Cas released him and opened his door. “Let’s go! I’ve never been to this one before.”

They strolled through the large glass doors to the museum and while Dean paid at the front desk, Castiel was already off into the first exhibit. Dean followed after him and found himself in a room full of various insects displayed in glass frames on the walls and laid out in cabinets.

“ _ Look  _ at these !” Cas exclaimed. Dean leaned over his shoulder, the plaque above the case read “Coleoptera”. It was full of beetles of every shape, size, and colour one could imagine.

Now Castiel was flipping through the museum guide he’d picked up on his way in. 

“And  _ look  _ they’ve got entire rooms dedicated to hymenoptera and and lepidoptera!” 

Dean just laughed. “Buddy, I have no clue what you’re saying but I’m excited for you.”

Castiel took Dean’s hand and led him on. He felt like a child on Christmas; he hadn’t seen this many specimens since before he graduated. He’d forgotten what joy learning about insects had brought him, and it was the best feeling to be sharing this newfound information with Dean, who really came around once they started getting into the pollinators. 

He told Dean about his studies of colony collapse disorder, and the class he had taken that had inspired him to want to be a beekeeper, feeling more comfortable, more like  _ himself  _ than he had in years. And this time, rather than discussing these things with classmates who more or less had a similar viewpoint to his, he could hear Dean’s point of view as a horticulturist. They had had numerous conversations like this, but it never grew old. There was always something more to say, considering how much both of them loved their work. 

By the time they reached what seemed to be the final exhibit, the butterflies and moths, Castiel was quite content. 

“There’s one more thing.” Dean tugged his hand and opened a door Cas hadn’t seen at the opposite end of the room. He didn’t have time to see what the script on the door had said, but the moment they stepped through the door, he understood. 

He couldn’t help the grin coming over his face as he gazed around the room. It looked like a massive garden, full of countless flower varieties blooming with bright reds, yellows, pinks, purples, and more, framed with assorted greenery. And what was more, there were hundreds of butterflies fluttering around the place. He’d read about butterfly gardens, but he’d never experienced one, and it was one of the most beautiful sights.

“ _ This  _ is why we had to wear these shirts,” Cas finally came to the realisation.

“Yup,” Dean was practically beaming. “They’ll land on you if you stay still.”

They walked on through the garden, and at some point Dean got distracted by some flower species he had never seen in person, and Cas let go of his hand so he could investigate. When he returned, Castiel was sitting by a fountain lined with flowers that had jagged petals tinged with pink, their centers bold red. Cas must have had at least twenty butterflies from his face to his fingers and all down his back. He noticed Dean taking a photo with his phone out of the corner of his eye before he approached him. Some of the butterflies flew to Dean’s shoulders as he sat beside Cas. He reached down and plucked one of the flowers and handed it to Castiel, ignoring the looks he received from some nearby parents who were trying to prevent their children from doing the same.

“I think that’s against the rules, Dean,” said Cas.

“It’s a dianthus,” Dean replied, as if this explained it.

Cas took the flower from him. “Does it mean ‘rule breaker’?” he said, feigning seriousness.

“No, asshat it means ‘pure affection’.”

“Oh,” he said, unable to keep his straight face. “Well I guess that’s alright then.”

He picked one too and put it behind Dean’s ear.

“This has been a seriously fantastic day, Dean.”

“It’s not over,” said Dean.

“I think they’re closing soon,” Castiel told him.

“I know, but I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Dean, you don’t have to--”

“I know I don’t have to, but it’s for your birthday. I’m glad you were born.”

He smiled. “I’m glad I was, too. Let’s go before they kick us out for picking their flowers.”

They headed out of the garden hand in hand, stopping at the washrooms first so they could change out of their bright shirts.

In the car, Cas watched as Dean realised he still had the dianthus behind his ear and wrapped it around the rearview mirror. They made their way out of the city back to a more rural area, where Dean took a few turns he hadn’t taken on their way there. They parked in front of a restaurant that somehow looked classy but casual simultaneously; the sign above the door read “The Golden Willow.” Inside, there were several small tables scattered around one large room with a bar at its center and a band of three people playing music quietly in the far corner. The hostess led them to their seats and gave them menus, taking their drink orders. The oak floors and tables had a warm glow about them, illuminated by the strings of fairy lights circling the room and spiraling across the front of the bar.

“This is very nice,” said Cas. “How’d you know about this place?”

“Ellen took us a few times when Sam and I were kids,” Dean replied. “And we came here after I graduated from university.”

“The prices are even reasonable,” he commented.

“Don’t look at the prices, you’re not paying.”

Cas glanced at Dean and back down at the menu bashfully. “Alright. Well I think I’ll be having the grilled chicken plate.”

“I’m gonna go for the BLT with fries.”

When the hostess returned, they placed their orders and sat quietly, enjoying the music and muffled chatter around them.

“Anything new at the flower shop?” Castiel asked after a while.

“Well I’ve got this wedding coming up for these two chicks who are really into the whole flower language,” said Dean. “But the problem is, they want to use peonies, lily of the valley, and  _ red tulips _ .”

“Peonies and lily of the valley are customary at weddings, aren’t they?” Cas asked.

“Well yes, they’re supposed to mean ‘happy marriage’ and ‘sweetness’, and they go well enough together but _red_ _tulips?_ I mean, come on.”

“Those mean… ‘perfect lover’?”

“Yeah. Which is nice, I guess. They chose them because that’s what one of them got the other on their first date or whatever, but peonies are light pink usually and lily of the valley is white. Plus the shapes just don’t go together. And I tried to tell them this, but they won’t have it. I’m trying to think of other flowers with similar meanings to peonies that might go better. But honestly, the red just clashes everything.”

Castiel loved to listen to Dean talk about flower arrangements. He found it very amusing how worked up he could get about mismatched flowers for weddings. He was certainly a perfectionist and he was so charming that he usually had no problem changing people’s minds about what would look best. And as far as Cas had seen from the photos of weddings Dean had done, his choices  _ always  _ looked fantastic. But maybe he was just biased.

Once their food came, the subject changed frequently, from flowers to how Charlie was doing to what Sam was up to. 

“How’s your grandma?” asked Dean. He hadn’t asked about Cas’ family since Balthazar’s wedding.

“She’s fine,” Cas said. “My mother asked how you were doing the other day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. And she wanted me to tell you to ignore what Hannah and Lu said to you at the wedding.”

“Hmph.”

“Actually, her exact words were, ‘I don’t care if Dean’s not a woman, he seems wonderful and they need to suck it up and practise what they preach’.”

Dean laughed. “Damn, go Naomi. What’s she mean they should practise what they preach?”

“They’re very religious, which means they talk about how God loves his children and whatnot. But Mother has always had to remind her that ‘God loves  _ all  _ his children’. It’s stressful having a religious family.”

“I’ll bet. No one in my family is religious.”

“I’m not either, which upsets my family but whatever.” After a moment he added, “My parents are visiting in a couple weeks. They’d like us all to have dinner.”

“Me included?” asked Dean.

“Well yes, if you’d be okay joining.”

“Yeah absolutely, that’ll be nice. We can have them over at my place if you want.”

“I’d like that,” he smiled.

After their meal, Dean stood and offered his hand to Castiel.

“You know,” he said, “I never did get that dance.”

Cas blushed, remembering the ivy geranium he’d gotten from Dean before the wedding. He’d forgotten all about it. He took Dean’s hand and followed him to the open floor space in front of the band, which was playing an upbeat tune.

Neither of them were good at dancing, but it didn’t matter. By the end of the song they were both laughing at each other in good spirits, enjoying the silliness of it all. The next song they played was slow, and the two came together dancing slowly. Cas rested his cheek on Dean’s shoulder happily, feeling him press a kiss to the top of his head.

They soon headed out, paying for the food and thanking the hostess. The drive home was pleasant but quiet. Castiel had his arm out the window, enjoying the warm summer air and observing the scenes he saw in the houses as they passed.

It was getting late by the time Dean parked the Impala in front of Castiel’s building. He got out of the car and walked him to his door. Cas looked at him fondly as they stood in the hallway.

“Dean, thank you so much. This was probably the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad you liked it, Cas. I had a really great day. I’m glad I got to spend it with you.”

That’s when Cas realised how close their faces were. He placed both of his hands on either side of Dean’s face and drew him closer, kissing him full on the mouth. It was slow and gentle, and probably the best kiss Cas had ever had. He felt Dean bring a hand up to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. When he pulled away, he remained close to Dean, stroking one of his cheeks with his thumb.

“Good night, Dean,” he said. And he turned to enter his flat, leaving Dean completely speechless. 

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it!   
> I really liked the suggestion of having Dean take CAs to see butterflies. I hope I didn't disappoint! And I also hope I didn't get TOO geeky with the taxonomy. I'm not even an entomologist but I have friends who are and as a fellow biologist, I can relate to the geeking-out about natural history museums.
> 
> Lemme know what you think, I'm open to suggestions about the next chapter though I have a vague idea of where it's going


End file.
